


way home

by zimtlein



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Awkwardness, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:53:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22669612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zimtlein/pseuds/zimtlein
Summary: On their way home, Tobio asks a weird question.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio
Comments: 17
Kudos: 203





	way home

“Is there someone you like?”

Shōyō looks up. “Of course. There’s a lot of people I like.”

“Not what I meant, stupid.” Rolling his eyes, Tobio screws off the top of his water bottle. “Like as in like-like.”

“Why would you want to know?”

“Why not? I’m just asking. Don’t look at me like an idiot.”

“Then don’t ask like an idiot!”

“It was a normal question.”

“What about that question is normal? No one would ask that out of the blue.”

“I would. So give me an answer.”

Shōyō knits his eyebrows. Then he pointedly turns away. With some bounce, he jumps on his bike. “I’m off. Bye.”

“Wait.” Tobio stands up so suddenly that Shōyō has to pause. Deep blue eyes watching him steadily. Often enough, Shōyō feels tiny underneath them.

“What?”

“I’ll come with you. For a while.”

“What? Why?”

“Why not? Don’t ask unnecessary questions.”

Silence. Their echoing steps. The sky colored orange.

“No girl ever confessed to me,” Shōyō eventually says. His bike squeaks when he puts too much weight onto the right side. An evening breeze sweeps through high grass.

“But there were girls who you wished would confess?”

“Maybe.”

“What do you mean, maybe? Give me a straight answer.”

With a snort, Shōyō turns away. “Who said I’d have to tell you?”

“I did.”

“And I have to listen to you because …?”

Tobio shrugs. Minutes pass by, no words falling from their lips. Then Tobio changes the topic. Until their ways part, they are arguing over volleyball. Shōyō wants more training. Tobio wants more technique. And when Shōyō jumps on his bike, alone, he stares after the other and tilts his head.

“Lock the doors at eight o’clock, will you?” Kōshi shows a small smile as he hands Tobio the keys. “Daichi doesn’t know anything about it. And we’ll keep it that way, all right? Else he’ll bite my head off.”

“Thanks, Sugawara!” Shōyō grins. “And no worries, we’ll be here with the keys tomorrow. On time.”

Tobio tosses him a side-glance. “I. I’ll have the keys. Who knows what would happen to them otherwise.”

“What does that mean?”

A quiet laugh. Kōshi pats Tobio’s shoulder. “Okay. Just don’t overexert yourselves.” With that, he leaves Shōyō and Tobio alone.

They hardly talk as they begin their training. They don’t need many words, anyway. Looks and gestures say enough. They wasted too much time today already. If Shōyō hadn’t forgotten his books in one of the classrooms, he wouldn’t have been too late for training. If he hadn’t begged Tobio to search for those books together with him, he would have spared Tobio the same faith.

The ball bounces off Tobio’s hand. Weird. Usually, his receives are perfect. Shōyō’s eyes follow the ball, and he lunges forward.

“Hinata, what are you doing? Idiot, don’t –”

He yanks someone with him to the floor.

“Are you okay, Kageyama? I’m so sorry! I didn’t want to …”

Words get stuck in his throat. Deep blue eyes. He has never been that close to them before. Why are they widened? Why are pale cheeks turning that pink? Why are those hands on his arms sweaty and trembling?

“I didn’t want to …” Shōyō tries again, his throat hoarse. Next to them, the ball lands on the floor.

“Then open your eyes next time, airhead.” With a growl, Tobio shoves him off. Shōyō catches himself before he falls on his back, and he jumps up quickly.

“Then stop playing that miserably, you blockhead,” he grumbles.

“Miserably? I could say the same to you.”

“You …” Shōyō wipes dust off his training trousers. “No, I mean … Kageyama, is something the matter? You seem a bit, well, distracted.”

Moments pass as they stare at each other. Tobio clicks his tongue and turns to the ball. “No.”

“No?”

“No, nothing’s the matter.”

“Are you sure? I mean …”

“I am!” Angrily, he throws the ball at Shōyō. He can’t react in time. With painful force, the ball lands directly in his face. “Don’t talk so much nonsense and practice more.”

“Two girls,” Shōyō mumbles.

“What are you babbling on about?”

“I had a crush on two girls. But I never exchanged more than five words with either one of them.” He bends down to his shoes and opens the laces. “In my defense: both of them I knew years ago.”

Shoes off. Trousers folded. Sweater and T-shirt. A quick look at Tobio.

Shōyō shivers. He must have been watched for some time already.

“And … And you?” he asks, turning away sheepishly. He can still feel Tobio’s eyes on him.

“I had one girlfriend,” is the hesitant answer.

“Oh.”

“For one month. That was last year.”

“So she dumped you right away, huh?” Shōyō quips nervously. “You probably thought that volleyball is way more important again, and she –”

“She wasn’t my type. That’s all.”

One eyebrow quirked, Shōyō buttons up his shirt. “You were with her even though she wasn’t your type?”

“And?”

“Nothing.”

The school is already closed. They have to go around the sports ground to arrive at the entrance. With every step, Tobio tosses the keys upwards and catches them again. The chinking noise echoes through the air.

“How …” Shōyō clears his throat. “How far … I mean, did you …?”

Tobio catches the keys. They stay in his hand. Then he looks at Shōyō. “We had sex. Once.”

Shōyō’s face turns red. “Don’t say it that bluntly!”

“But that’s what you wanted to know?”

“Yes, but …” With a bit too much strength, he hits Tobio’s back. “I mean, good for you. Um, you know. Congrats.”

Shōyō’s cheeks won’t cool down until they reach his bike. He can’t properly look Tobio in the eye.

The sudden words almost make him wince. “She never meant that much to me.”

“You shouldn’t say that.”

“Why?”

“Why? It sounds cruel!” Shōyō gestures wildly and finally dares meet Tobio’s eyes. “As if you only used her. You didn’t, right?”

Tobio cocks his head. He doesn’t answer.

“Could it be … Are you lonely, and that is why you are in a bad mood?”

The sun has already set. Darkness surrounds them like a cold curtain.

“What? Why would I be lonely?”

“I don’t know! Because you are asking me all that stuff. And telling me all that stuff. Or did you fall in love with someone?”

Silence.

“Kageyama …” Surprised, Shōyō stares at him. “You fell for someone?”

“No, you idiot.”

“But –”

“I said no!”

Shōyō pouts and looks away. He watches blades of grass, hears cars in the distance.

“That’s not fair,” he mumbles.

“What’s not fair?”

“That I trust you. With everything I’ve got. And you can’t do the same. You can’t trust me. That’s not fair.”

Only after some more steps, he notices that Tobio stopped. Shōyō winces. Then he slowly turns around, his legs starting to quiver. He is expecting anger. In the worst case, a fist aimed at his face.

And not deeply red cheeks, and an expression that makes him wonder if his words did get to Tobio after all.

Confused, Shōyō stares as Tobio comes closer. Just in front of him, Tobio comes to a halt. Shōyō wants to back away on instinct, but his hands are still on his bike’s handlebars and his legs won’t listen to him.

His eyes widen when he realizes that Tobio’s hand is coming closer. Throat. He is reaching for his throat. If it wasn’t for his red cheeks, Shōyō would have run away right about now. But Tobio seems abashed. So much so that nervousness starts to flutter in Shōyō’s chest.

With a gentleness that Tobio has never shown before, he takes the slider of Shōyō’s zipper between two fingers and pulls it upwards until Shōyō’s jacket is closed completely. Then he withdraws his hand. Shōyō stares at deep blue eyes and feels his cheeks warm up.

“You are going to catch a cold,” says Tobio quietly. “How are you going to play volleyball then?”

No word forms on Shōyō’s lips. Perplexed, he keeps staring.

Tobio is the first one to turn his eyes away. He keeps moving. Doesn’t wait for Shōyō to recover. And Shōyō looks after him, and with sudden clarity he understands, and his heart skips a beat.

His vision turns black. Head against the floor. The stench of blood in his nose – only for a moment, until he realizes that nothing really happened. Shōyō presses his fingers against the bridge of his nose and screws up his eyes.

When he opens them again, Tobio’s concerned face appears above him.

“Everything’s okay!” Shōyō stutters. He scoots backwards, then sits up straight. “I mean – I’m sorry, I didn’t see the ball, and …”

“You aren’t concentrating.” Tobio bends down to him and gives him a piercing look. “Are you feeling all right?”

Instantly, Shōyō’s cheeks turn hot. He nods hesitantly.

“Your face is red. Do you have –”

“No, everything’s A-okay!” With a jerk, he dodges Tobio’s hand and jumps up.

“’A-okay’? That’s the second ball that landed in your face today.”

“I’m sorry! I’ll try harder, I promise!”

“You don’t have to promise me anything, idiot. If you don’t feel well, then sit down for a few minutes.”

“I’m not –”

“Kageyama is right,” Daichi cuts in. “If you don’t feel well, you should take a break. Practice your services, but don’t overexert yourself, Hinata.”

Shōyō doesn’t object. Without taking another glance at Tobio, he retrieves the ball that bounced off his face.

“If you really trusted me, you would tell me what’s wrong.”

Shōyō flinches. His hands on his bike, he tosses Tobio a glance over his shoulder.

“Nothing is wrong,” he mumbles and takes the first step towards the main street.

“Nothing? Are you kidding me? You’re acting weird.”

“Oh yeah? You never told me what’s wrong with you either.”

“Because there is nothing wrong! Or was I the one acting weird today?”

Shōyō huffs. “Maybe not today. But you did last week.”

“Fine. I did act weird last week, I admit it. You happy?” Tobio gives a deep sigh, trying to keep up with Shōyō. “But that’s in the past. Now you are the one who is making everyone worried. So what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing, then.”

“Yeah.”

Shōyō feels rage surging through the air. On the brink of bursting, the last straw. He looks at Tobio out of the corners of his eyes.

Instead of finding anger on his face, there is a hint of pensiveness. Shōyō doesn’t know what to do with this.

“You didn’t fall in love, did you?” Tobio asks.

Shōyō abruptly turns his head. Out of widened eyes, he looks at Tobio. “No.”

“Really.”

“Really! What would that have to do with anything?”

“Nothing. Not really.”

When Tobio stops, he instinctively does the same. When Tobio bends down, he involuntarily stays rooted to the spot. When warm lips brush his, he feels heat climb up to his face.

Tobio straightens his back. With a trembling hand, Shōyō grabs his collar and holds him back. Seconds pass in which they stare at each other. None of them dares take the first step another time.

“Shouldn’t I have done this?” Tobio mumbles.

Shōyō shakes his head.

“No, I shouldn’t have done it?”

“I’m not …” Any sound small and meaningless. “I don’t …”

“Can I do it again?”

Shōyō feels like melting in the warmth that floods his body. Slowly, he nods. Waits for soft lips to touch his again. Jolts when a hand grabs the back of his head. Stand on his tiptoes when Tobio wants to back away, and pulls him back again.

They break the kiss. It lasted seconds, and it felt like hours. Shōyō turns his eyes away and keeps moving. His hands are quaking.

“You stared at me during practice too often,” Shōyō says quietly.

“Did I?”

“Yes. Keep yourself under control next time, Bakageyama.”

“Then stop watching me the whole time, idiot.”

“I didn’t watch you! It’s not like I can ignore it, it’s making me nervous!”

“Then do what every normal player would do: concentrate on the ball.”

“Or I’ll stare back! How would you like that?”

“I’d like that a lot.”

No reply.


End file.
